


if i could touch this place (or feel it)

by playedwright



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Dex centric, Family, Fluff, Homesickness, M/M, lots of mentions of dex j loving all the people in his life let him be SOFT, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-16 06:32:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17544539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/playedwright/pseuds/playedwright
Summary: It’s quiet in the room for a bit, while Dex tries to reorganize the mess that has taken over his thoughts, and while Nursey waits for Dex to go on. Maybe this is where the conversation can end, and in a few minutes Nursey will just high five him then climb into his own bunk and go to sleep, and they can wake up tomorrow and go about their days pretending Dex didn’t have a mental breakdown over his relationship with his family.It’s not realistic, but Dex can hope.*In which the ways Dex's love for his family change him, and how his family grows.





	if i could touch this place (or feel it)

**Author's Note:**

> there isn't enough content about dex having a complicated relationship with his family and i wanted to fix that so naturally i wrote 8k words about it and then cried because i love dex a lot.
> 
> ANYWAY.

He’s not a big fan of family weekends.

 

Dex knows it’s a big tradition at Samwell, and he’s glad the others have it. He loves meeting the families of his teammates and friends, and he enjoys watching as the hockey team stumbles through introductions and half-assed tours. He likes the tradition behind it, what it stands for—what it means to those who get to experience.

 

But he hasn’t had a real family weekend yet, because his family hasn’t been able to make it out to one. It’s okay. It’s his junior year; he’d rather they come out to his last one, anyway. And it’s hard to get a family out here, even with as small as they are. His brother can’t take time off and his dad’s back is too bad for a long car ride and Ma can’t leave him alone like that. So honestly, Dex gets it.

 

He doesn’t fault his family for having lives.

 

He’s just not a big fan of family weekend, is all.

 

“Dex, when does your family get here?”

 

Because for three straight days it’s forced smiles and shrugs and moments when Dex really is okay until he realizes he’s _not_ and hits the ground hard. And it’s just… a lot. On top of game stress and school stress, and almost anything else that could come up and stress him out—he just really doesn’t want to stress about his family being here or not being here, too.

 

“Hopefully next year, C.”

 

So instead of hugging his Ma and showing his brother the Murder Stop n’ Shop, besides showing off all the repairs he’s done in the Haus to his dad, he lets himself be corralled from family to family. He gets teased by Chowder for pronouncing ‘aunts’ weird and he gets tackled into a hug by Bitty’s mom. He even meets Whiskey’s _abuela_ and Tango’s baby sister and Ford’s parents came out and it’s awesome—it really is. He’s happy to be surrounded by his team being happy.

 

**[14:21] mama:** Sorry we couldn’t make it out this year, gingersnap. We’ll all be there next year for sure.

 

It’s just.

 

He misses his family.

 

Like, he was always really close to them. And he grew up thinking it was dorky and feeling almost embarrassed by how much he loved them, but it’s different now. Now he’s being grown up and he’s busting his ass in school and he’s a NCAA athlete—hell, he might even be a prospect for the _NHL_ and even if he’s not, he has a kick-ass degree waiting for him at the end of this road. It’s all amazing and Dex thinks he’s pretty damn lucky most of the time.

 

But he _loves his family_.

 

So he wishes they’d celebrate him, a little.

 

“You’re looking a little deflated,” comments someone from above him. Dex isn’t even sure when he was deposited onto the couch but he looks up and Nursey’s green eyes are on him and Dex feels—weirdly—grounded. “Get it? Because you’re so full of hot air?”

 

Dex rolls his eyes. There’s no real heat behind it. “Fuck off. Did Bitty send you to babysit me?”

 

“You think you’re special enough to worry a babysitter?” Nursey huffs, but he takes a seat next to Dex and he sits _really close_. “Please. You are nowhere near Nursey Patrol levels yet, you still got a while.”

 

“Ah. Thanks for the heads up.”

 

Nursey smirks.

 

They both watch, quietly, as a terrified-looking Chowder introduces Farmer to his grandmother, who somehow she hasn’t met yet. His fear is misplaced; Feng Mian starts doting on Farmer after only mere seconds have passed.

 

Dex laughs softly to himself. He wants that, someday. His family loving on the person he loves.

 

“For reals, dude,” Nursey continues, under his breath. Dex looks at him out of the corner of his eye. “Are you doing okay? Family weekend can suck, sometimes.”

 

Of everyone on the Samwell Men’s Hockey team, Dex thinks Nursey might get it the most. This year is the first that Nurse’s family will be attending, even if they’re getting in a few hours later than everyone else. Maybe that’s what makes Dex so willing to open up; he thinks Nursey might actually… _get_ it.

 

“Can we talk about it later?” Dex asks. Because here—here everyone is _happy_ and he won’t take away from that. He’s been trying to get better, letting people do what makes them happy and learning what makes his teammates happy and _trying_.

 

And he and Nursey have been getting better, too. It took living together and one fight so loud and angry that nearly sent Dex to the basement, but. They’re better. Friends more often than they’re enemies. Dex is grateful for it.

 

Nursey shrugs, like it isn’t a big deal. It feels like a weight off of Dex’s shoulders. He didn’t even know he was carrying it. “Of course, man,” Nursey says. He hits Dex’s shoulder with his hand, and he even winks when Dex looks at him. “Hey, I’m gonna go call my mom and find out how far out they are, okay?”

 

Dex nods. He can handle being alone at a party; and it’s not like he needs to be babysat, anyway. Most of the families are breaking off, wandering over to Faber before game time or touring the campuses. Outside the window, Dex can see Bully and his sister, both leaning up against their respective motorcycles, chatting. The Haus will disperse and it’ll be quiet, again, for a little while before game time.

 

He sighs. He’s not used to an empty house. He hated it, back at home, when his brother left and there wasn’t the constant sound of video games or music or the sounds of their roughhousing. He’d never wanted to be an only child.

 

Hell, Dex still doesn’t like being alone.

 

Louis is fiddling with the speakers so Dex claps a hand on his shoulder as he makes his way out of the living room, and Tango catches him in the hall with a question about where Whiskey and his family went. There’s probably a few stragglers still in the Haus but Dex climbs the stairs feeling tired and weighed down.

 

Twelve months from now, he’ll be a senior and either his family will be here or they won’t. He wonders if it’ll matter less then, because by then he’ll have some kind of plan or maybe someone in his life or if maybe it won’t matter because they’ll be there _all the time_. He hates that he doesn’t know which one he wants more.

 

It’s a complicated thing, loving your family this much. He thinks it would be easier sometimes if he was able to move on or to be fully happy in this awesome found-family he has.

 

Dex has never done things the easy way, though.

 

He’s collapsed on his bed halfheartedly reading some book Nursey left lying around when Nursey walks in and practically stops in his tracks at the sight. Dex watches as the impulse to chirp crosses over Nursey’s expression and nearly passes through his lips before whatever he was going to say dies on his tongue. Then to Dex’s surprise, Nursey asks, “Do you like it so far?”

 

He glances back at the book and shrugs. “It’s a pretty good read,” he admits. Dex sits up. “Here. Sorry. I should have asked.”

 

“Nah, dude, it’s chill,” Nursey says with a dismissive wave of his hand. He sits down on Dex’s bed, right next to him—if he’d sat one inch closer, he’d be on top of Dex’s toes. “You looked like you needed the distraction anyway.”

 

Dex hums in acknowledgement.

 

“So…” Nursey trails off. When Dex doesn’t look at him, he pokes him forcefully in the leg. “Are you ready to have that talk now, or whatever?”

 

Under his breath, Dex laughs. “Always such a way with words,” he chirps, and he pokes Nursey back in the arm in retaliation. He doesn’t dwell on the fact that Nursey’s laugh settles in his bones and resides inside his ribcage. “Yeah, I guess. We can talk about it now, or whatever.”

 

“Cool,” Nursey says. And just like that, he leaves the floor open to Dex.

 

God, he doesn’t even know how to explain it. _What a stupid problem to have,_ he thinks, _loving your family too much._ In the back of his mind, he can hear Chowder reassuring him that no problem is a stupid problem.

 

“It just kind of sucks that they can never be here, you know?” Dex mutters. He draws his knees up to his chest. Beside him, Nursey is completely quiet. Dex doesn’t talk about his family often—so he knows Nursey must be soaking up every word he can. “Like, I get it. We’re all adults and my dad’s back hasn’t been healthy for years so it’s not like coming down here is easy for any of them. And what am I supposed to do? Ask them to come down anyway?”

 

He trails off at that.

 

“You could,” Nursey supplies. Dex shakes his head. “Why not?”

 

Hell. That’s a loaded question. It’s complicated, layers upon layers, and Dex doesn’t even know how to explain it. Doesn’t know how to articulate the fact that he’s never been able to be the selfish one in the family, especially not when he got older. He had to be the good one, the reliable one. He was _good_ at being the non-selfish one. _We never have to worry about you, gingersnap,_ his mama used to say, and she’d run her fingers through her hair. _You’re a good boy all on your own_.

 

He wasn’t ever the selfish one. He didn’t complain and he bit his tongue when things didn’t go his way and he never got to have the life other youngest children got to have and he never once said it was unfair because he grew up _loved_. His mama fed him and his dad kept a roof over their heads and Conor would pause his video games any time Will asked him to do something. He never had a reason to ask for more than he was given; he wasn’t sure he’d even know how to if he was given the chance.

 

“I don’t want to be selfish,” Dex mutters. He squeezes his eyes shut so that Nursey can’t see if he starts to cry.

 

“Dex, they’re your family. You’re allowed to want them to be here.”

 

He laughs, short and strangled. “I do want them here, Nurse. That’s not what the problem is. The problem is I want them here and they aren’t and I can’t ask them to be down here just because I feel like they should be.”

 

Dex opens his eyes. Nursey’s face is cautious, calculating, sad. He starts to say that it’s okay, because it is—it’s always okay—but Nursey starts talking before he has the chance. “Let me rephrase, then. You’re allowed to ask them to be here.”

 

“I _did_ ask—”

 

“Only once, I’m assuming,” Nursey cuts him off. It’s true, so Dex can’t say otherwise. Nursey doesn’t look smug about being right for once. “Dude, I don’t mean this in a bad way, but have you _ever_ asked for something more than once?”

 

Dex almost cracks a smile. “I asked Lardo for her dibs more than once.”

 

Nursey, for what it’s worth, only kind of rolls his eyes. Dex’s chest is so painfully constricted he can hardly breathe. “I mean with your family.”

 

And.

 

Shit.

 

Dex can’t think of a single instance that he has.

 

His mind is blank, which seems crazy, because surely there’s an instance or ten where he asked his family for something more than once and they gave it to him. It’s got to just be the pressure to find an answer getting to his head.

 

“Uh,” Dex says. He blinks heavily. “I asked if I could play hockey. And I asked if there was any way we could make Samwell work.”

 

Nursey smiles. “And how did those turn out?

 

Fuck. “Really good.”

 

“See?” Nursey nudges his elbow against Dex’s knee. The warmth from the touch will radiate through Dex’s skin long after Nursey has gone. “Good things come out of asking more than once. You shouldn’t be afraid. And you’re a grown-up now, Poindexter. Who the hell cares if you get a little bit more demanding about what you want?”

 

Dex rolls his eyes. “Helpful advice as always, Nursey.”

 

But Nursey’s face is serious. Dex thinks that if they were closer, better friends, that Nursey might even have touched his hand right about now. Just to show how serious he was. “I mean it though,” Nursey tells him. “I hope you find something you aren’t afraid to ask for twice. And I hope they say yes to you, dude. Family weekend is a lot better when you have all the people you love to spend it with.”

 

And hell, if he doesn’t have a point. It’s not simple, not by a long-shot; nothing in Dex’s life has ever been cut-and-dry.

 

It is his family, though. They love him. Maybe they would be willing to put up more of an effort, if Dex let them.

 

He shifts on the bed, until he’s shoulder to shoulder with Nursey and can rest his head on Nursey’s chest. Nursey just wraps an arm around him and squeezes. It’s exactly what Dex needed. “Thanks, man,” Dex says. He swallows down all the emotion that threatens to creep into his voice. “I really appreciate it.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“So I’m sitting in the middle of my Econ class, and this guy has the nerve to turn around and try to explain to me profit maximization—like I’m some kind of idiot who doesn’t pay attention in class or have common sense. So he’s sitting there and he _really_ thinks he’s teaching me something, and I’m content to just let him think he’s smarter than the teacher, here. But the professor cuts the guy off and goes, ‘Dude, you might want to save your lessons for someone who hasn’t been helping run a business since he could toddle’ and the guy just _shut up_!”

 

On the other line, his mama’s laugh fills his ears—loud and infectious. Dex thinks he could almost be in the house with her, sitting at the table with his textbooks spread out while she stirs something on the stove. “You still kissing up to your teachers then, gingersnap?”

 

Dex rolls his eyes. “Ma, I play college hockey. I gotta kiss up so I have a chance to stay caught up.”

 

“Mmm,” she hums, pleased. “That’s my baby. Hey, I’m glad you called. Margaret from down the street wanted to know if you were coming up for Christmas this year, said she’s throwing together some kind of secret santa thing..”

 

“Margaret wanted to know, huh?” Dex asks. He shifts the phone between his head and his shoulder so that he can reach down and pull his backpack off the ground. “Ma, you know _you_ can just ask me.”

 

“I _am_ asking.”

 

Dex huffs out a laugh. She isn’t wrong. “Yeah, yeah. Is Conor gonna make it this year?”

 

“He’s pretty sure he can get leave long enough to come down for a few days. You know that’s all we get sometimes.”

 

“I know, Ma. Been that way since he was eighteen.”

 

His mama sighs on the other end. He doesn’t think his mom is old—never has—but she sounds older, sometimes, when they talk about this. “He tries his best, you know? And I’m so proud of him. I just wish he could be here more.”

 

“We all wish that, Ma,” he tells her. If he were there, he’d hug her right now. Try to ease some of the pain of both of her children moving on, try to swallow down the unshakable feeling he gets that he left his family behind. “I’ll be there. We have a game on the twenty-second but I’ll be on the first train out after it’s done.”

 

Her voice is relieved when she responds. “Thank god, gingersnap. You know how much I hate Christmas without my kids.”

 

He does. It’s one of the reason the guilt keeps him up at night.

 

“Is there anything else you needed to tell me, babe?” she asks. On her end, he can hear her putting dishes away. “It’s been a while since you just called to chat.”

 

And that—

 

That _hits him_ , hard, in a way he hadn’t really expected. That used to be the norm, him calling his mom just to chat. He’s always been a mama’s boy, never once tried to hide it. He’d call her when he was mad or when he got good news—or, like during freshman year, anytime he felt like she needed an update on his life. It wasn’t as often now, he realized. He gets too caught up in homework and hockey and helping around the Haus to remember to call her. He gets good news and the first thing he does is text his group-chat with Nursey and Chowder. 

 

Logically, he knows, this is called moving on. He can’t be expected to spend his entire life always updating his mama first. People grow up, and they find other important people. Dex knows all of this, when it’s written on paper.

 

Exposed to it in real life, though—realizing that it almost feels like he’s replaced his mom with _hockey boys_ —sucks.

 

“Ma,” he chokes out. “I’m sorry I don’t call as much anymore.”

 

She lets out a startled laugh, like that was the last thing she expected Dex to say, and her voice is so soothing Dex is almost certain she’s here with him and running her fingers through his hair. “Will, you don’t have to apologize for that. You’re twenty-one years old. Lord knows I never wanted you to grow up but I certainly can’t expect you to say your mama is your best friend for your whole life. I love talking to you when you’re able to, sweetie.”

 

He won’t cry, because that would be dumb. It would be dumb to wish his mom was actually here with her soft hands and her homemade mac n’ cheese and it would be even dumber to cry because she can’t be here and he can’t be there and yet she’s still here telling him it’s okay.

 

“I miss you, Mama,” he croaks out.

 

“Oh, kiddo, I miss you too,” she promises him. “You know I’m proud of you, right? Will?”

 

He closes his eyes. Half-distracted, he hears the sound of his bedroom door opening and Nursey slipping in. It’s a good thing this call is wrapping up, Dex thinks, because he’s about to start to cry and he doesn’t think he could handle doing that while on the phone with his mom _and_ in the same room as Nursey.

 

“I know, Mama,” he says. “You tell me as often as you can.”

 

“Good. And I hope you know, even with you being all grown up and moving on, you’ll always be my best friend, gingersnap.”

 

His heart constricts painfully in his chest, refusing to beat. Dex isn’t even trying to hold back the tears now, not really. He realizes with a start that Nursey still hasn’t said a word since he came in. Dex opens his eyes; Nursey is sitting at their shared desk, eyes filled with concern.

 

“Yeah,” he agrees. “You’ll always be mine, too. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

 

“You’re a good boy, Will,” his ma says, like he’s a little kid again. Dex could collapse under the weight of it. “Well, I’ll talk to you later. I need to go make dinner for your dad and make sure he took his meds before he starts moaning about how bad his back is hurting him.”

 

Dex takes a shuddered breath. “Take good care of him, Ma. I’ll talk to you later.”

 

“Later, babe. Love you most.”

 

“Love you most,” Dex repeats, and he waits two seconds after hanging up the phone before he starts to cry.

 

It’s stupid, he thinks again, because who the hell gets upset over the fact that their mom is their best friend? It’s _stupid_. It’s not a reason to cry. Dex is lucky, he’s always been lucky, he fucking knows that.

 

“Whoa, whoa, Dex—” Nursey starts. Dex can hear him cross the room then falter and fall short right next to their bunk beds. “Dude, what the hell? Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

 

“ _Nothing_ ,” Dex snaps, because this is a stupid fucking reason to be upset and he knows that. God, no one ever explains how complicated it is to love another person and Dex is so tired of trying to make sense of everything all the time.

 

“Obviously something is wrong,” Nursey says, because apparently the guy has the patience of a saint. He must get over whatever hold-ups he has because he climbs into Dex’s bed and yanks him against his chest until Dex is pretty much crying into his shirt. “We don’t have to talk about it but we can, if you need.”

 

How the hell is he supposed to explain this? Dex can barely make sense of it himself. There are certain things he keeps tucked away in a file stored deep in the back of his mind—including the reason he chose Samwell, the reason he started playing hockey, reasons why it’s so complicated to love his family sometimes, and his growing feelings for Derek Nurse.

 

Two of those things, however, seem really fucking unavoidable right now considering he’s crying into Nursey’s chest.

 

He sniffles, pathetically. God he hates crying.

 

“My ma…” he starts, then he trails off. He squeezes his eyes shut; Nursey never stops rubbing his back. “This is gonna sound dumb. But my mom is my best friend.”

 

Nursey only hesitates for a moment. “That is kind of dumb. But only because you’re a dork. Why is this making you cry, though?”

 

And, shit. _Shit._ He might as well open the whole damn file and just let Nursey see exactly who he is because there’s not really a good way to get out of this one and Dex isn’t even sure he wants to. He’s so tired. And aside from his ma, Nursey _really_ is one of his best friends.

 

Hell, that should terrify him more than this.

 

Dex takes a deep breath.

 

“My mom is my best friend. And I can’t even tell her that I’m gay.”

 

The circles Nursey was tracing into his back stop for a few seconds, and Nursey tenses out of shock. But then he’s relaxing and holding Dex closer and when he goes back to tracing, it feels better than before. “Oh,” he says.

 

Dex knows this is Nursey giving him the space to keep talking. He’s just not sure he has the words yet.

 

“Yeah, oh.”

 

So it’s quiet in the room for a bit, while Dex tries to reorganize the mess that has taken over his thoughts, and while Nursey waits for Dex to go on. Maybe this is where the conversation can end, and in a few minutes Nursey will just high five him then climb into his own bunk and go to sleep, and they can wake up tomorrow and go about their days pretending Dex didn’t have a mental breakdown over his relationship with his mother.

 

It’s not realistic, but Dex can hope.

 

“Sorry,” he finally says. “I guess that’s kind of an anticlimactic way to come out.”

 

Nursey giggles—honest to god _giggles_. Dex is a goner. “Don’t apologize for that, dude, you gotta do it on your own time and be glad with when you did it. I am happy you told me, though. Big step for you.”

 

“What, trusting you?”

 

“Yeah, a bit. And being willing to say it out loud. I know it isn’t easy.”

 

Dex blinks. “Huh. I guess you _do_ know.”

 

“Chyeah. You aren’t the only one with the epic coming out story, bro.”

 

Dex laughs, despite everything. Then reality sets back in, and he’s back to remembering that he lives in a world where his mother loves him but he’s not sure it’s enough to encompass loving him through his big gay secret.

 

“It’s just complicated,” he finally says. “To be so close to your family and still be so unsure of how they’d react if I told them the truth. They’re good people, for the most part. And they try their best. But I’m… being the way that I am, that’s not what they expect out of me. And I guess. _Fuck_. I don’t know how to be the kid who doesn’t live up to their expectations.”

 

Shit. There’s something he’d never really thought about before.

 

“ _Dex_ ,” Nursey murmurs. Dex burrows further into his side. He thinks it’s justified, considering he’s bearing his soul here.

 

“It’s okay,” he says back.

 

“No, it isn’t.”

 

_No_ , Dex thinks. “Maybe not,” he sys aloud. “But it has to be. Because they’re my family and they’re all I got.”

 

Nursey falls silent again. Dex thinks if they stayed quiet enough, he’d be able to hear the wheels in Nursey’s head turning. He knows it’s just Derek’s way of making sure he says the right thing. After months of being annoyed at the way Nursey took his time with replying, Dex finally started to understand. And he gets it now. Maybe more than ever.

 

“You’d have us, if you didn’t have them,” he says finally. “It isn’t the same, I know. But you’d have us. The team. All of us. And you’d… well. You’d have me.”

 

Dex squeezes his eyes, one last pitiful attempt to keep any more tears from falling. If he actually does feel Nursey press a kiss to the top of his head—if he isn’t imagining it—neither of them say anything about it. Maybe nothing needs to be said, about it. Not yet.

 

“I’m lucky you’re my other best friend, Derek.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

He’s staring at his phone in shock when Nursey finds him in the locker room before practice. He’s late, he’s super late, and he knows Nurse is probably in here to yell at him and drag his ass out to practice. But he doesn’t really care.

 

Dex can’t stop staring at the text on his phone.

 

“Yo, man, Murray is gonna make us skate suicides if you don’t hurry up and get your hockey butt out there. He is not happy with the way any of us played last game.”

 

Dex makes some kind of non-committal noise. His phone vibrates with a new notification, a text from his mom.

 

**[06:13] mama:** Call any time if you need to, okay?

 

“Dexy? Dude. You with me?”

 

Dex finally looks away from his phone. Derek’s eyes are on his face, confused, searching. “Hey,” he croaks out.

 

“You okay?” Nursey asks again.

 

“No.”

 

Nursey blinks in shock. Dex has never said _no_ to that question before. “Uh. Oh. Okay, do you need to talk about it? Can it wait till after practice, because I seriously think Murray might murder us if we’re any later—”

 

“No,” Dex repeats.

 

He stands up quickly, and his mind is already going a thousand miles a minute. It would only take him about two hours to get to Portland if he left right now, plus he’d need thirty minutes to go to the Haus and pack a bag of stuff. That would give him almost two whole days with Conor before—

 

“Dude, where the hell are you _going_?” Nursey snaps. His hand reaches out, wrapping around Dex’s bicep and holding him in place. Dex has to fight the urge to throw a punch. He’s high-strung, he’s angry, he’s sad, and none of it is Nursey’s fault but _damn it_ he doesn’t have enough time for this. “We have practice, what the hell—”

 

“Fuck practice,” Dex snarls. Something like hurt crosses against Nursey’s face. Dex is tired, so tired. In a few hours, he’ll probably feel bad for lashing out. He’ll probably think back on it and curse himself for ruining their already shaky relationship and he’ll probably think about it for hours and regret how he behaved but for now?

 

His brother is leaving. And that’s really all he cares about.

 

“Conor’s being deployed,” Dex whispers. The fight drains out of him; his shoulders sag and he’s drifting—forward, forward, until Nursey’s arms catch him and Dex is clinging to the front of his practice jersey, unable to stop shaking. Nursey’s taller than him, in his skates, so Dex fits perfectly underneath his chin. He’s not crying. He’s a hairs’ width away from it, but he isn’t crying. “They’re sending my brother out tomorrow night.”

 

“Dex,” Nursey says.

 

And it sucks, it fucking _sucks_ because Dex knows that Nursey doesn’t get it. Dex didn’t get it, not when he was barely a teenager and found out Conor had enlisted, not when he was eighteen and Conor asked if Dex would follow in his footsteps and he’s twenty-one years old now and Dex still doesn’t fucking understand it and maybe he never will—

 

He’s leaving now and it fucking _sucks_.

 

Dex has always been close to his brother, which is one way of saying they spent the majority of their childhood hating one another. It’s the kind of rivalry that only comes from being siblings and being a few years apart. But despite all the times they fought, Conor was his best friend growing up. Conor never turned him away if Dex knocked on his door. Conor always snuck him snacks. Dex never wondered whether or not Conor loved him, not even when Conor became a teenager and spent even less time in the house. Dex got accustomed to sleeping in his own bed and he found snacks on his own and his brother was still his greatest ally.

 

And then Conor snuck into his room one night, a few days after his eighteenth birthday, and confessed to Dex that he was thinking of enlisting.

 

Dex was always the one Conor told first.

 

**[05:56] conor:** i know you’re about to walk into practice but i wanted you to hear it from me first. i’m getting deployed. they send me out tomorrow night. please come home if you can make it, will, i want you to be there lil bro.

 

“They’re sending my brother away,” Dex repeats. His voice quivers, but he will not cry.

 

“I’m so sorry,” Nursey whispers. His hands are not enough to calm Dex. Not this time.

 

Even with Nursey holding him close, it isn’t enough. Dex shakes and he shivers and he thinks if he were stronger that he would start to cry. But he is numb amidst all the pain. It doesn’t feel real. He doesn’t want it to be real.

 

“He was always there, you know,” Dex breathes. The words flow easily, as they have been recently—where it concerns his family, and when in proximity to Derek. “That’s what big brothers do. They’re always there for you. They protect you. And god, he loved being a big brother. He was so damn good at it.”

 

“You told me you used to fight a lot.”

 

“Who do you think taught me how to throw a punch?” Dex asks. His fingers tighten around Nursey’s jersey, holding him in place. “We did. That’s what brothers do. But I knew he’d do anything for me, too, you know?”

 

Nursey’s voice is quiet. “Until he left.”

 

His shoulders sag. “Until he left,” he agrees. “Maybe I have no right to be upset with him for leaving. But I am sometimes. I’m so mad at him I can hardly breath.”

 

“That’s how it is, with the people you love, Will. Sometimes they break your fucking heart.”

 

And god. _God._ That’s really all it takes for Dex to dissolve into tears. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

It’s later, probably a few weeks now since Conor left. And Dex is doing okay.

 

He’s curled around Nursey, sharing the space on the bottom bunk. Dex’s hand is curled into the fabric of Nursey’s shirt, right above his heartbeat. Nursey rests one hand on Dex’s ribcage, and uses the other to hold up the book he’s skim-reading.

 

It’s like this, now, which is something Dex is still struggling to understand. He doesn’t know what it means. They aren’t together, except that maybe they are. Sometimes Dex feels homesick for Nursey even when they’re in the same room—and it’s such a drastically different homesickness than what he’s used to, so he doesn’t know how to cope.

 

But they have this. Dex has Nursey’s voice, soothing and low in his ear as he reads from his book and says lines he likes out loud.

 

It came about not long after Dex got home, when he was exhausted from crying and holding his mom together after the longest two days of his life. He drove back straight from the airport, unable to think about being in Maine one second longer than necessary without Conor there anymore. He’d come home to a Haus that smelled like pie and grilled cheese, and all his classwork stacked neatly on the desk and a freshly cleaned room and _Derek Nurse_ with his open arms and this weird ability to fix the things Dex wasn’t able to.

 

Nursey admitted, later, that he put on the softest sweater he could find—just in case Dex came home and needed to be hugged.

 

( _needed_ was an understatement; he fell asleep with his nose buried in that stupidly soft sweater.)

 

So this is where they stand—Dex tells Nursey the truth about what it’s like to love a family you feel like you sometimes don’t belong in and Nursey tells Dex whatever secret he wants to share that day, and then they cuddle until Dex feels like the homesickness and the sadness is no longer too much to bear.

 

He can’t define it. But he isn’t the English major, so it’s okay.

 

“Sometimes a truck will drive by, and it sounds so much like my dad’s old truck that I have to stop what I’m doing to see if it’s him,” Dex whispers into the curve of Nursey’s neck. Nursey puts his book down but doesn’t speak. “He’s had that thing for as long as I’ve been alive. I used to wake up to that truck being started in the morning, the sound of my dad leaving for work. I’d hear it coming down the road a mile before he actually got home. It’s like… that sound is so familiar to me. And I didn’t realize I missed it until I came here and I didn’t hear it every morning.”

 

He gets distracted, trails off when Nursey’s other arm finally wraps around him. Dex shifts slightly, and Nursey sighs.

 

“There’s this rickety old floorboard in the kitchen that we could never figure out how to fix. Conor and I used to sneak over it in the middle of the night when we wanted food. Sometimes when I walk into the Haus kitchen, I expect it to make a sound and give me away. I don’t know what I think will come for me if I step on that creaky floorboard, but sometimes I hope. I hope my mom will come walking down those stairs ready to reprimand me for not being in bed.”

 

Nursey presses his thumb firmly into Dex’s back, reassurance that he’s listening. Dex closes his eyes. It’s late, and he might fall asleep like this. He thinks there might be worse things than falling asleep curled up with Derek Nurse.

 

“It’s hard to explain. But this place isn’t my house, and it sucks. And when I’m home, it’s not the Haus and it sucks. And everywhere I go, I’m homesick for one of my families and I don’t know how I’m supposed to manage both of these worlds. If I step on a creaky floorboard in the kitchen downstairs, my mom won’t find me and send me back to bed. And If I’m in Maine and I kiss a boy I’m dating—”

 

The rest cuts off, strangled, and dies on the tip of Dex’s tongue. There’s nothing easy about this.

 

“My mom used to wake me up by opening my door,” Nursey whispers. Their voices are so quiet in the room, dancing around one another, drifting. If they spoke any quieter, it might be lost in the breeze. “I mean, she’d honestly just open my door a crack and I’d be wide awake. I was so accustomed to it, you know? Then I came here and anyone could open that door and I wouldn’t wake up even if they came in with an airhorn. I didn’t realize how much I missed my mom coming in like that until I realized I didn’t wake up the second my door opened anymore.”

 

The relief that envelopes Dex could be enough to melt him into the floorboards. He settles for curling closer, closer to Nursey. It’s enough, for now.

 

“Exactly,” he breathes. “Exactly like that.”

 

They swap stories for a bit, trading tales about the things from home they missed that they never thought they would. Dex talks about his crazy neighbors and the foghorn from the lighthouse three miles up the road that would always wake him up; Nursey talks about anything the bodega employee who knew his name and order by heart to the brick wall on an alley near his house that he carved his full name into.

 

It falls silent after a while, and at some point Nursey had shifted to turn off the lamp. The only light illuminating their room now came from outside, barely touching through their window. Dex thinks they’re going to fall asleep like this again.

 

He thinks Derek might already be asleep, which is what gives him the bravery he needs to turn his head just so slightly; he’s only able to reach Nursey’s collarbone, but it’s enough. He presses a kiss there, firm and lingering, then rests his head over the same spot he just kissed.

 

There is no easy way to stave off the homesickness, he knows that now. He still calls his mom at least three times a week and he sends Conor emails every chance he get. He still calls his dad when there’s a repair problem he doesn’t trust himself to fix alone. There are still his aunts and his many, many uncles and there’s still his cousins and his grandparents and the big Poindexter family that he misses constantly. He carries the ache with him now, like a chip on his shoulder. Like his heart on his sleeve. It’s simply a part of him now. He thinks that maybe some day he’ll learn how to manage it.

 

It’s easier, now though. With Derek Nurse and his soft sweaters and his warm arms and his everything else. It’s easier.

 

“Dex,” Derek whispers. Dex hums, in response. He’s almost asleep. “ _Dex_. You’re one of the things I get homesick for. Sometimes.”

 

There will be a morning when they talk about this more. Dex will wake up and his arms will still be wrapped around Nursey, and he’ll have a faint memory of a kiss on the nearest spot he could reach and Nursey, almost in a dream, saying something about home. There will be a very bleary-eyed Nursey who wakes up and sees Dex still in his arms, and who—still half-asleep, maybe dreaming, maybe hopeful—will kiss Dex’s forehead purposefully, intently.

 

There will be hushed confessions in the morning light and knocking fingertips at practice and there will be fumbling and laughter and a first kiss that’s mostly teeth since neither of them can stop smiling. There will be so much chirping because _really, derek, could you have used a more cliche line?_ and there will be much, much more.

 

Dex doesn’t know that yet. He can’t see anything further than Nursey’s arms around him right now and Nursey’s words echoing in his ear, repeating in his head, trying to find somewhere important to burrow so he remembers it when he wakes. Dex puts his hand over Nursey’s and he twines their fingers, and as he drifts off to sleep, he says, “You’re a homesickness of mine, too.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Dex falls headfirst for Derek Nurse, but there was really no other expectation.

 

It is simple, dating Derek, in ways Dex never expected. There is lots of cuddling, which there was before, and there is even lots of talks, which they also had before. There’s also a lot of kissing. Dex likes that the best, he thinks.

 

There is the unsettling, overwhelming feeling that Derek has now become a part of Dex’s _family_. His own parents don’t know about Derek yet, but that doesn’t matter.

 

He’s family to Dex.

 

God, Dex is almost positive that this is going to be their future.

 

He thinks it should scare him more than it does, but he finds himself too preoccupied to worry about it too much. Loving Derek is as easy as breathing, most days. Dex is happy.

 

He decides to tell his mom on an otherwise uneventful Sunday afternoon. Derek sits at their shared desk, working on some kind of assignment, and Dex bounces his phone back and forth between hands. It occurs to him suddenly, just how much he wants to tell his mama about the boy he loves.

 

Dex hasn’t even said it out loud yet, not to Derek.

 

But god— _god_. He’s so happy he could shout it from the roof tops and he wants his mama to know.

 

“Derek,” he hedges, because he won’t do _anything_ without the explicit agreement of his boyfriend. “I’ve been thinking—um. You can say no, okay? But I’ve been thinking… And I want to tell my mom I’m dating you.”

 

Derek drops his pen.

 

“Um, are you _sure_?” he asks, and his voice sounds chill but his expression suggests that he’s internally freaking the hell out. Dex wants to kiss him so badly—so he does. He leans into Derek’s space and kisses him square on the mouth, slow and _sure_.

 

“I really am,” he promises. “But only if you’re okay with it.”

 

“Babe, I’d make a flyer and post it on the Quad if _you_ were okay with it, I promise I am more than okay with this. But only if you’re ready.”

 

Dex takes Derek’s hand and squeezes it. He’s so _fucking_ happy.

 

“I am,” he says again. “Nurse, you’re my family. And I’m ready to introduce you to my other family. I think they’re going to love you.”

 

“Do they even know—”

 

“No, not yet.”

 

Derek blinks. “Babe. I think this is awesome. And this confident, kind of _fuck all_ attitude is super hot. But I don’t want you to rush into this if you aren’t ready. Like, this shit is scary and you have cried in my arms many times about how worried you are that things will be different once you come out, you know?”

 

“I do know. I don’t care. I don’t think they’ll be that different.”

 

“Dex…”

 

“Derek…”

 

Then Derek is kissing Dex again, so forcefully that Dex _knows_ this boy supports him no matter what he chooses to do. It’s better than anything. It’s _everything_. And he knows everything is going to turn out okay, even if he doesn’t know how this is going to go.

 

The homesickness won’t go away. Dex will probably spend his entire life trying to balance missing the families he lets himself have. But it’s okay. Because Dex has a big fucking heart and he won’t pretend he doesn’t love these people anymore. It’s complicated and sometimes it’s messy and a lot of the time all he can do is cross his fingers and hope things turn out for the best.

 

But he really—

 

Dex _really_ thinks things could turn out for the best, now. He thinks he can have both.

 

He holds Derek’s hand as he calls his ma, and her voice still sounds like he’s just walked in the front door.

 

“Hi, Ma,” he greets. His voice shakes, just a little. Derek squeezes his hand a bit tighter.

 

“Hi, gingersnap,” she greets. “I’m just making peanut butter cookies for your dad, I was thinking about you. Do you want me to send you some?”

 

“Sure, Ma. Those sound delicious.” Derek presses a kiss to Dex’s cheek; it’s the reassurance he needs. “Hey, Mama, I was actually calling ‘cause I wanted to tell you something.”

 

“Anything, babe. What’s up?”

 

Derek’s eyes are shining. God, Dex loves him. He’s going to tell him that he loves him the second he gets off this phone call. What’s the point in waiting? They wasted enough time.

 

“I’ve been seeing someone, Ma. His name is Derek. And I think you’re going to love him.”

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me [here](https://tonytangredis.tumblr.com/).
> 
> comment, kudos, bookmark below!


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